


Regrow, Reclaim

by SelenaEstella



Category: Original Work
Genre: Agender Character, Gen, Infertile Character, Optimism, Post-Apocalypse, Reforestation, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1878759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaEstella/pseuds/SelenaEstella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after humanity has left the polluted Earth for outer-space, and the old planet is slowly being healed and turned into a nature reserve. A couple of short stories featuring those working tirelessly to bring the planet back to life again. More chapters may be added; see chapters for individual warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A thoroughly overly-optimistic take on [ this piece](http://writeworld.tumblr.com/post/88613427021/writers-block-a-picture-says-a-thousand-words) and [this one](http://writeworld.tumblr.com/post/90889413759/writers-block-a-picture-says-a-thousand-words), shared by WriteWorld. Obviously this is nothing like what the artists intended but shhh they're just about vague enough.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Shale took off their mask._
> 
> _They had heard of air like this; air where you could taste the petrichor, smell the geosmin, feel the gentle press of cool moisture against skin without the burning of chemicals. Air that you could breathe without choking. Air that could support life._

All in all, the regrowth was coming along nicely.

Shale slowly picked their way through rubble, cracked concrete, and of course the grass and flowers that were slowly but surely reclaiming the land. Coming to an opening between the towering dead buildings, Shale paused and checked their scanner. Nitrogen: 80.012%. Carbon dioxide: 0.782%. Carbon monoxide: 0.03%.

Oxygen: 18.856%.

Harmful radiation levels at zero; background radiation only.

Shale took off their mask.

They had heard of air like this; air where you could taste the petrichor, smell the geosmin, feel the gentle press of cool moisture against skin without the burning of chemicals. Air that you could breathe without choking. Air that could support life.

The carbon cycle was almost stable; soon the reforestation programs could fully commence, and not long afterward the reintroduction could start - hundreds of thousands of captive animals, preserved and bred to continue their species, allowed to wander the Earth again.

Just a shame about the remains, though. The rusting shells of cars scattered the ground, some still shiny like dead beetles, and a few abandoned B.U.G vehicles still lay strewn around from the old evacuation attempts. The open carcass of an old railway lay ahead of Shale, cutting across the misty horizon just visible between the mountains of crumbling concrete.

Shale wished, for the hundredth time, that something could be done; they knew nothing could be - not enough funds, not enough point, really, since it would all vanish in time - but Shale still felt that the planet would do better without the constant reminders.

Also the remains were dangerous - while chemicals had been meticulously cleaned away, traces still clung to battered metal, waiting to poison anything that found it. Broken glass, rusted wire, and smothering non-biodegradable plastic had escaped clean-up; all would surely kill many of the creatures soon to make the empty city their home. Shale didn't care if it was ‘valuable’ to the next generations to see the process of decomposition and how humanity had practically killed the planet - the human remains were far more trouble than they were worth.

Still, nature was taking a stand - the waste all slowly became entangled by creepers, and leaves of all sizes defied the harsh ground in planting their roots and growing. Even trees were beginning to grow - some, left over from before mankind left the planet, had managed to adapt to the rising toxicity and survived long enough to flourish.

And although the sky was still smeared with smoke and dust and ash, as Shale raised their head they saw pale swathes of blue.

Shale smiled, and put their mask back on. The smog was still a bit of a problem and they could feel their throat tightening ominously - although asthma was hardly the worst thing to affect humans born on such a polluted planet. Dropping their hand, Shale momentarily paused, fingers brushing against the delicate metal bird hanging from a chain around their neck. Metal, because by the time it was made, wood was such a precious thing there had not been a splinter to carve from.

Shale hitched their backpack up a bit before carrying on, a flock of  _Columba livia_  pigeons - ringed and tracked - flying by far overhead. Their route would be being monitored to record nesting sites and feeding grounds, and samples would be captured routinely to monitor the overall health of the population and establish whether they would make suitable, non-toxic prey for any of the animals likely to migrate to the area after they were released.

Chances were they would have to be culled, either to avoid a population explosion or because they had adapted to ingest too many toxic chemicals, but Shale held out the hope that they would survive - the bird at their collar was a rock dove. It was the only one their parents had known.

Carrying on, treading gingerly over unsteady ground and scanner still feeding back routinely, Shale ignored the tears from their eyes that fed flowers on the ground, and whether they were from grief or joy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She had seen pictures. They all had, all those enrolled in government education and so all those on-planet. But they were in history books, and sociology texts, and faded scraps from parenting sheets._
> 
>  
> 
> _The room was a nursery._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place many years before Shale's assessment of the city, when earth is still completely inhospitable. A young woman collects water samples from an abandoned building in case they contain life. She doubts they do.
> 
> Warnings: profanity; infertile character; allusions to death(?)

Taking water samples was a bitch.

Nereid sloshed through toxic liquid that went up to above her knees, keeping a wary watch on her scanner so as to avoid subsurface obstacles. There were stories about naive young waders falling through holes and never being seen again, or tripping on a submerged root and tumbling straight into the toxic waste, splashing around only to find that they couldn't get up again. There were also rumours of  _things_  in the water, that would grab at a reckless passer-by and drag them off somewhere to be devoured.

Nereid didn't believe any of it of course, but it didn't serve to make her exactly relaxed. And tripping over was always nasty because it meant being chewed out by the supervising officers over all the expensive equipment you endangered. The suits weren't cheap after all.

Three bottles of doubtlessly-still-uninhabited sludge later, Nereid was ready to head back. As she turned to leave, however, she paused - there was an open door at the end of the hall.

Supposing she could afford to lose a few minutes, Nereid waded her way sluggishly through knee-high water pollution, insatiable curiosity drawing her to the door. Her work, while vital to the well-being of the planet and blah blah blah, was dull as shit, and it was these little things that made it more worth it. Saving the world wasn't much fun when you wouldn't live to see it.

The door opened onto a dim room. Sheets of something Nereid chose not to inspect swirled lazily on the water's surface as she passed, waiting for her eyes to adjust rather than waste power on her flashlight.

After a few moments for darkness, Neried's eyes finally adjusted behind the thick goggles, and she was able to take in the room.

Oh.

She had seen pictures. They all had, all those enrolled in government education and so all those on-planet. But they were in history books, and sociology texts, and faded scraps from parenting sheets.

The room was a nursery.

A crib was by the boarded window, submerged up to the rails; a chest of draws stood to one side, wood only preserved by the lack of things to eat it. A ceiling light hung from a busted cable, and only a side table stood a lamp with moons and stars cut into the dark blue cover.

A glimmer caught Nereid's eye just as she got her fill and turned to leave - something shone on the top of the chest of draws, reflecting light despite the layers and layers of old brown dust. Without really thinking Neried crossed the room in two strides and scooped it up, shoving it in her breast pocket before swiftly turning to leave.

She didn't want to think about the room. She just collected treasures on impulse. She didn't want to think about the room, or nurseries, or children and babies because she couldn't-- the fate of so many on that  _damned_  planet  _she could't--_

She would forget about the locket until later, much later, after she'd handed in the water samples, been berated for being late, and just taken off her suit to hand in. Neried barely remembered in time, but she did and with one gloved hand she fished the treasure out.

It was a silver locket, with swirling patterns engraved on the outside. Well, probably not true silver to not have tarnished badly. Neried did wonder, briefly, what would be inside should she open it. A happy couple maybe. Or a mother and her child. A lock of hair maybe, which had briefly come back into fashion from years and years ago.

Maybe there was nothing. Maybe it was just a pretty piece of jewelry.

Neried cleaned it carefully, put it with her stash, and didn't think about it again for a long, long time.


End file.
